


Restraint

by Skrigget



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3983362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skrigget/pseuds/Skrigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It hurts so much, Peter, I need you to go.”</p><p>“Will it hurt less if I’m not here?” Peter asks gently.</p><p>“Yes,” Roman lies effortlessly.</p><p>“Bullshit,” Peter says, “I’m not leaving.”</p><p>“I can’t control it,” Roman says frantically, shaking his head, “I’ll bite you.”</p><p>“No, you won’t,” Peter assures him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restraint

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue when this is supposed to take place, somewhere after season 1, possibly, IDK. I just watched season 1 and 2 of Hemlock Grove again and needed to write something.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest and it hurts all the way through his body, like every fiber, every cell, every drop of blood is trying to rip and shred and ruin his body. It’s self-destructive, to say the least, and Roman grits his teeth, closes his eyes and throws his head back. He succeeds in banging his head against the wall, hard, but he can’t even feel it. All he feels is his muscles breaking, one by one, ripping apart, or at least that’s how it feels.

“Roman?” a voice is carried through the thick wall and Roman barely manages to stifle a loud groan.

“Not now,” he shouts back in what, he hopes, is his normal tone of voice. He seriously doubts it. More shredding, ripping, ruining, breaking – his veins are going to explode along with his head and his heart, his nails are going to dig into his palms and all the way through, his teeth are going to shatter in his mouth –

“Roman, are you okay?”

He can’t not moan in pain this time. “Fine. I’m – I’m fine.”

He’s not. And he’s not going to fool anyone, least of all Peter, with the way he’s sounding. He bangs his head against the wall once more, and then again and again and –

“Roman, what the fuck are you doing?!” the werewolf shouts and bangs loudly on the door to the bedroom.

Roman wants to scream at him to go fuck himself. He wants to beg him to go away, go away, go away! He wants him to – he wants him to –

Fuck, he just _wants_ him, nothing else. He wants him, he wants him so bad it hurts, everything hurts. His head, his throat, his palms, his legs, his eyes, his mouth.

“Roman? Roman!”

Does Peter sound panicked or is that just Roman’s imagination playing a trick on him? Does Peter sound needy? Maybe Peter wants him, too. Maybe, if Roman gets up, crosses the room and opens the door, he’ll find Peter already with his head tilted to the side, his neck ready for Roman’s teeth.

He can’t help but moan, something between pleasure and pain.

“Okay, you need to fucking open this door, Roman, or I’ll do it myself.”

Roman actually laughs. “How exactly are you going to do that?” he asks but he doesn’t think Peter can hear him, because all he can do is whisper. He has to shut his mouth close then, keep his teeth at bay. God, he’d give anything to get up and –

“Roman, you fucking piece of shit, open the door, this isn’t funny!”

Roman doesn’t answer anymore, he just bangs his head against the wall, grunts in pain and frustration, tries to drown out everything that’s running his body – need, so much need and so much pain and so much hunger – but it’s impossible.

Someone’s banging the door, possibly Peter, but he can barely hear the noise anymore. How long has he been inside his room anyway? Hours, days? Maybe only a few minutes, he doesn’t remember. His head is fuzzy, clouded, and he can’t make sense of anything. He digs his long, sharp nails into his palms, feels them break the skin almost immediately, smells his own blood, but’s not enough anymore. The smell of it only makes his throat hurt even more and bringing his hand to his lip to get a taste of it won’t help him in the long run, he knows.

So he tries to remain seated and prays to whatever fucking greater being is out there that this will pass soon so he can –

Fuck, he doesn’t know, but this needs to stop. It needs it to go away, he can’t stand it, everything hurts so bad, everything hurts so fucking much, it’s terribly, has he ever experienced anythinglike this, he doesn’t remember, he tries to, but he can’t remember, he can’t remember anything, it all hurts, and he’s so hungry, so hungry, he needs to sink his teeth into flesh, feel the blood fill his mouth, taste in on his tongue, let it run down his throat and into his stomach, god fucking crap, he needs it more than air, he needs it more than anything, he needs someone, anyone, he needs –

“Roman! Roman, _please_ , please!”

Roman opens his eyes suddenly and looks into Peter’s beautiful eyes.

This is when he realizes he’s saying, if not actually screaming, nonsense. “I need it, I need it, hurts so much, just a little bit, just a little bit, more than anything, I need it, hurts so bad, so fucking hungry, please –“

“Shh, Roman, quiet, I’m gonna make it okay, trust me,” Peter says. He has one hand in Roman’s hair and the other on his arm. He’s so close, so close.

Roman can smell the blood pulsing just beneath the thin, thin layer of skin. He can hear his steady heartbeat, he can practically taste him on –

He’s leaning forward, his lips pulled back and his pupils blown.

“Roman…” Peter whispers.

Roman screams then and lets his forehead connect with Peter’s shoulder. “I need it, Peter, please, please, please. Fuck, fuck, I need it.”

He’s crying and shaking, his nails are digging further and further into his own flesh but it doesn’t help. And he’s so close to Peter’s skin, Peter’s flesh, Peter’s blood.

He needs it. He can’t control this anymore. He fucking needs this!

“NO!” Roman pulls away suddenly. “Get away from me!” he screams.

“Roman!” Peter exclaims shocked. “It’s gonna be fine, we’re gonna be –“

“You need to go!” Roman shouts desperately. “I can’t control it!”

“Destiny is on her way, she has some blood with her –“

“You need to go, Peter!”

“Roman, listen to me –“

“NOW!”

But Peter doesn’t get up and Roman is sobbing louder than before because he can’t control this, he really, really can’t. What he wouldn’t do for just a little taste of that amazing blood and it’s so, so very close.

He screams again and covers his face with his bloody palms. The smell of it, even the taste of it, does nothing to him, it’s simply not enough. He’s not sure anything will ever be enough.

“Please go,” he begs into his hands. “Peter, please go.”

“It doesn’t suit you to beg, Godfrey,” Peter jokes, “and I’m not leaving you again, okay?”

“Take your melodrama somewhere else and _go_!”

Peter smirks and puts a hand on Roman’s knee. It’s a mistake. Because Roman can feel Peter’s blood now and he can practically taste it in the air and he can smell it, oh how he can fucking smell it. The presence of blood is so loud and clear it’s an actual sound, ringing in Roman’s ear, making his head more and more clouded and foggy with every passing second.

He’s screaming again, he realizes, and he stops.

He opens his eyes and looks at Peter through his blood-covered fingers. The boy doesn’t look horrified – he looks on the verge of a breakdown and he has tears, fucking tears, in his eyes.

“Please, go,” Roman begs once more.

“No,” Peter says silently.

“It hurts so much, Peter, I need you to go.”

“Will it hurt less if I’m not here?” Peter asks gently.

“Yes,” Roman lies effortlessly.

“Bullshit,” Peter says, “I’m not leaving.”

“I can’t control it,” Roman says frantically, shaking his head, “I’ll bite you.”

“No, you won’t,” Peter assures him. “And if you do, I’ll fight you, I’m not human, remember?”

Roman snorts, once, but it comes out like a painted shriek more than a laugh and the brief smile playing of Peter’s lips drops immediately at the sound.

“It’s going to be okay,” Peter whispers and then he closes his eyes and places his forehead on Roman’s knee. “I promise you.”

“How – how would you fucking know?” Roman grits out, a sobbing mess.

“I just do.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later.”

Roman looks down at Peter and he is in such a vulnerable state, it would be so easy to just grab him around the neck, force him up against the wall, bite down into his amazing neck, suck on that blessed blood, let his hands wander down his body, lower and lower, let his fingers open his zipper –

“You give off a weird smell of arousal and hunger,” Peter informs him.

“Fuck you,” Roman whispers.

“Later, I said,” Peter smirks but then the friendly banter is over and Roman screams again before he lift his wrist to his mouth and bites into it. Not for the blood, but for the feeling of ripping something open. And he keeps biting, further and further, until he can almost feel the bones beneath his long teeth.

“Stop it, Roman!” Peter shouts and grabs his arm and pulls it out of his mouth. “You’re gonna rip your fucking hand off, you moron.”

But Roman just hisses and lifts the free hand. Peter is quicker, though, and takes it instead and holds both of them in his strong grip. Roman throws his head back in frustration, over and over again, as the tears run down his cheeks and his muscles is being torn to pieces and his veins explodes and his head becomes a clouded mess and his bones break and his teeth shatter.

The smell of blood hits him so hard it makes him open his eyes and look up at Destiny who’s staring at him with her eyes wide open. She hands Roman an actual waterbottle with blood – or she would if Peter wasn’t still holding his hands in his own. In the end Destiny has to feed the blood to him and the second it hits his tongue Roman is so relived he starts crying even harder than before. He drinks and drinks and drinks and Destiny pulls out another bottle and one more and then she stands up and leaves the room immediately.

Roman is panting heavily. His eyes are closed once more and he’s stopped crying. In fact he’s stopped anything besides breathing. He’s gone completely limp. The pain is gone, the hunger is gone, but the need and the want is still lurking just beneath the surface, teasing and hunting him, but for now he’s too tired, too blissed to care one bit.

Peter hasn’t let go of his hands but he’s not exactly holding them down anymore, more like he’s holding Roman’s hands in his own, their fingers almost intertwining.

“You okay?” Peter whispers.

Roman can’t answer, barely manages a hum in agreement, before he practically faints from the exhaustion of it all. Peter catches him easily, like he’d expected it, and, shit, for all Roman knows he did expect it. He lift Roman’s body up and places it on the bed. He sits on the edge of it for a second or two and watches as Roman breathes easily, in and out, his lips red with blood, his wrists healing themselves, his skin gaining a bit of color and the sweat drying.

Then he gets up and leaves.

Through the door, almost asleep but not quite, Roman hears Destiny’s frantic voice: “He should’ve killed you, Peter, what were you thinking!”

“He needed me, D, I couldn’t leave him –“

“No, you don’t understand, Peter. I mean it, he should’ve _killed_ you!”

“What –“

“No one, and I mean no one, is supposed to have that kind of self-restraint. Not when he’s this young and new and has gone this many days without feeding. I don’t get it.”

“What are you saying, D?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Just… You were really lucky, Peter.”

“It’s not luck, D, I trust him. I trust Roman.”

“He’s an _upir_ –“

“Yeah and I still trust him.”

“Okay, if you say so. He – he has strong feelings for you, too, Peter,” she says. “That kind of restraint, that is only possible because the thought of killing you – hell, it must’ve been the worse possibly thing he could think of, I don’t see how else he pulled it off, not killing you, I mean.”

Peter doesn’t say anything and Roman hears the door open. He’s too tired and too satisfied to turn around but he feels Peter lay down next to him in the bed and put an arm around him and Roman smiles briefly before he falls asleep completely.


End file.
